Dawn in Venice: 1

Having just returned from Venice Biennale, I am still getting my head around the things I saw. This is partly because there was just so much art; with 89 national pavilions, 44 collateral events and a main exhibition showcasing artworks by 136 artists it is impossible to see it all in a few days. Rather than attempt to recap my experiences in a short blog (perhaps recreating the intense, disorientation of the real thing) I will confine myself to two posts. In this blog I will discuss my personal highlight from the Biennale. In a forthcoming blog I will concentrate on the range of photography on display, in particular the wide variety of presentation and display methods that I came across.
The theme of the Biennale this year is ‘All the World’s Futures’ chosen by curator Okwui Enwezor. It turns out it is as bleak as it sounds. On the whole, I enjoyed the main exhibition, although it seemed that every notable artist who has made work on a vaguely political or environmental theme was included. There was a strong Marxist presence; Isaac Julien’s film ‘Kapital’ documents a conversation between the artist and prominent Marxist theorist David Harvey, and in the adjacent space he employs actors to read Das Kapital in 30 minute segments – a process that will take the entire 9 month duration of the Biennale. Jeremy Deller’s contribution the performance programme entitled ‘Broadsides and Ballads of the Industrial Revolution’, comprised different performers singing nineteenth century factory songs about the hardships of industrial labour and working class life. Other works by Deller bring the exploration of working conditions up to the present day with banners about zero hour contracts and gadgets designed to track employee work rates in Amazon distribution centers. Although I welcome this kind of social and political engagement in art, the irony of the incredible wealth owned by some of the preview audience was not lost on me. I agree with Jackie Wullschlager when she says that Political art has never before had such a prominent stage as this but I also felt that the message was largely drowned out by the exorbitant monetary value of the artwork on display. I felt that I was looking at a collection of assets rather than objects of criticism about globalisation and capitalism.
But after my doom and gloom appraisal I will focus on a real highlight; Caetera Fumus by Helen Sear representing Wales in Venice. I am drawn to artworks that are visually engaging, but keep me thinking about them long after I leave an exhibition, and this piece has certainly done that. The title of this piece Caetera Fumus translates as ‘The rest is smoke’, which is also the title of the whole exhibition, made up of still and moving image artworks produced in the woods and fields in Monmouthshire.

Sear’s work is often multi-layered – Caetera Fumus is no different. The artwork comprises a large lightbox emitting a strong yellow glow. A photograph of a rapeseed field is crumpled, pierced by red roots and photographed again. There is a confusing effect that makes it difficult to locate the real surface of the image. The shadows cast by the roots create an uneasy 3-dimensionality and the illusion of 3-dimensional space in the photograph of the rapeseed field is overpowered by the undulating texture of the crumpled surface of the photograph.

But these are the literal, visible layers in Caetera Fumus; further layers of meaning become apparent once one knows that the title, the composition of the roots and the viewing experience all refer to the painting of Saint Sebastian by Andrea Mantegna housed in the Ca’ d’Oro, (meaning Golden House) in Venice.

Emperor Maximian executed Saint Sebastian when it was discovered that he was a Christian. He was shot by arrows but survived his injuries and was beaten to death. He became the patron saint of archers and protection against plagues, amongst other things. The roots in Sear’s artwork correspond to the arrows in Sebastian’s body in the painting by Mantegna. They map out a body that is not present in her photograph. The landscape of the rapeseed field ‘stands in’ for the body and the roots take the place of the arrows that wound but do not kill it. This work then, is about death and resurrection, or near-death and a return to health. The rapeseed field and the dried roots also present a cycle of time; life, death and regrowth. This could be interpreted as a hopeful message about our use of nature, but this space is not a ‘golden house’ of veneration, instead the bright yellow lightbox gives me the impression of a sickly glow. The body of Saint Sebastian is transformed into a crumpled, dried out jaundice skin, shot through by its own means of life – the veins that are supposed to provide life-blood below the skin instead pierce it as dried out hollow roots. This is the image of the landscape cultivated by man to the point of self-destruction. Only wounds remain, the rest is smoke.
(images courtesy of Ffotogallery). For more information on Helen Sear’s exhibition please visit here.
For a tour of some of Venice Biennale please see here.

---